


Pie Day of the Century

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s04e06 Window of Opportunity, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because today is 3-14-15</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pie Day of the Century

“Guys, are you getting this, 'cause this is important?” Daniel asked for the hundredth time.  
“Okay, that’s it,” Jack jumped to his feet.  
“O’Neill, Daniel Jackson is correct. This translation is vital to resolving this situation.” Jack hadn’t heard him; he was already gone.

 

“O’Neill, I agree that this situation is intolerable….”  
“You know, what’s intolerable is this pie.” Jack flung his fork down, skittering it across the table. “Lemon meringue pie should taste like real lemons, not like….fake lemons.”

 

“Well think about it, I mean if you know in advance that everything is always going to go back to the way it was then…you could do anything for as long as you want without having to worry about the consequences.” Daniel offered thoughtfully.  
Jack’s sudden grin was so evil that Daniel involuntarily took a backward step. “Jack?”  
“Come on, Daniel.” Jack grabbed his collar and dragged him from the room.  
“Jack, this is really important…”  
“And when we loop, it’ll all still be here.”  
“O’Neill.” Teal’c followed somewhat reluctantly.  
In the hall, Jack abruptly changed direction. “We need Carter.”

 

“Sir, I cannot just build something like that from scratch.” Sam frowned at the diagram her commanding officer was sketching on her whiteboard.  
“Carter, the Egyptians built them using sticks and some string, right, Daniel?”  
“Sir….”  
“Well, they did, Sam. They didn’t have computers or…”  
“You can’t just slap it together.” Sam insisted. “You have to factor in trajectory, the weight and mass of the projectile, air disruption.”  
“It’s the commissary, Sam. There is no air disruption.”  
“Air conditioning, heat from ovens and steam tables.” Sam was writing furiously. “People walking through the room….”  
Daniel pointed at the blueprints she had pinned to the wall. “Here is the most defensible corner. We control the door behind us for additional ammunition and retreat…”  
She nodded. “If we redirect the vent, we can harness the flow to take advantage of the drag factor…”

 

Jack slapped his hands together in delight. “I can’t wait to try this thing out. And I know just who the first target should be. Carla.”  
“Carla?” Daniel frowned. “She’s one of the nice ones.”  
“Nurse Carla Deacon remarked to Colonel Ferretti that if Colonel O’Neill continued to consume mashed potatoes at the current rate, then the quartermaster would be required to issue uniforms of increasing sizes.”  
Daniel choked. “Okay, so she gets the first pie.”  
“It is certain. The infirmary regularly changes personnel at this hour. Many staff members require light sustenance before beginning their appointed work cycle.”  
Sam shook her head as she inspected her creation. “I cannot believe I let you talk me into building a catapult.”  
“It’s not a catapult; it’s a pie-a-pult. Teal’c, pass me that lemon meringue.”  
“O’Neill, is that not a member of the commissary staff approaching?”  
“I wonder if this baby will throw two pies at one time?”

“You know,” Jack licked mediocre chocolate from his thumb. “The pies might not be great but the pie-a-pult? That was awesome.”


End file.
